


Wine, to make us bolder

by Ineffable_Sehnsucht



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Reichenbach, Rough Sex, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Sehnsucht/pseuds/Ineffable_Sehnsucht
Summary: It took a year after my return. A year of dancing around each other.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	Wine, to make us bolder

**Author's Note:**

> Not the wip I had planned to finish but here it is.

It took a year after my return. A year of dancing around each other. I was tempted to admit myself to a madhouse during that year. Watson drove me nearly insane with yearning glances and soft touches he felt he could make away with. At one point, I thought I was imagining it. Surely he couldn't return my affections? It came to a fateful head. It was the anniversary of my return. We went for dinner.

All was well. We were working on dessert. The few glasses of wine had worked it's way into our system. Watson is often bolder when he is drunk. His glances were less covert and more hungry. Halfway through desert I stiffened. His foot was working it's way up my leg. Watson must have noticed my reaction as he pulled away blushing attractively and apologizing profusely. Claiming he didn't know what came over him and that I should do well to forget the whole thing.

I couldn't. It was the final piece. I knew he wanted me for certain. I paid for our dinner and grabbed his wrist, tugging him out the door and into the nearest cab. The ride back to Baker Street was agony. I could tell Watson was fretting over his actions. That I intended to berate and belittle him for is advances. It was far from it.

Upon our arrival, pushed him upstairs. My hand on his back the whole time. I felt I was burning a hole in him. When we reached the sitting room, I locked the door. No sooner had I done so was Watson apologizing profusely again.

I tried to hush him up but, he wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise. So I did the next best thing. I shut him up with a kiss.

It was glorious if not a little inexperienced on my behalf. Kissing wasn't something I was wont to do. We broke for air and I kissed him again. 

Watson pulled at my clothing and we began undressing each other. When I had him down to his unbuttoned, half untucked shirt and still buttoned trousers, I shoved him onto the settee. He had the gall to looked surprised. Even more so, when I crawled onto his lap. If I'm being honest, I was surprised by my actions too. I was hungry. I was starving for him.

I leaned in and kissed him again.

I felt his hardness against mine but, continued on until I felt an overwhelming need to have him inside me. I pulled him up and we made quick to remove ourselves of the last of our clothing. I ran to my room, losing clothes as I went, and grabbed a vial of oil.

When I returned, Watson pushed me onto my back on the sofa. He took his sweet time working me open with gentle caresses. Making certain to stop and allow me to adjust when it became too much. He pushed a third finger in and I was sure I might explode. In few minutes time, he lathered his erection with the oil and slowly push inside.

It was uncomfortable and he knew immediately. We switched positions and I sat on top of him. He held his prick and I eased myself down. Working at my own pace. I could see it in his face. The restraint. Trying his best to not buck into me. Oh how I wanted him to. I continued to slowly impale myself on his lovely prick until my backside met his groin. I let myself relax, putting my full weight on him and he felt impossibly deeper.

Waton's hands gripped my upper thighs, holding me in place. I intensely studied his face as I lifted up and fell back down. His eyes closed abruptly and he moaned. I did it again. His head fell back. I began riding him and we worked up to a moderate pace. I'd never felt so pleasure stricken in my life. Watson seemed to belong inside me. Like he was made to be there.

After an indiscernible amount of time, we changed positions again. My thighs burned with the ache of riding him. We switched so I was on my knees, facing the back of the settee. He reapplied the oil and my hands gripped the back of the settee as Watson push into me from behind. He started slow and shallow but I wouldn't hear of it. I needed to be fucked.

"Harder and faster," I said.

He listened but, it still wasn't enough.

"More."

Still not enough.

"Dammit John! Fuck me," I grit out between my teeth.

I needed to feel this in the morning. To know it had not been a dream. I wanted a constant reminder of what transpired between us. I wanted to throw heated glances at him when my bum reminded me of the pounding it received. I wanted his knowing smile in return. Promises of more to come.

I must have said this outloud because Watson responded.

"You only had to say so," he grunted.

His pace picked up and I was on the receiving end of a vigorous fucking. The poor settee shook and I could hear the slap of our flesh. It was all incredibly vulgar and only served to heighten the atmosphere.

My prick was fit to burst. My head fell and I saw the head of my penis verging on a deep purple and was leaking. My hand ventured to grasp it and I could feel a vein. It was pulsing with every thrust. Watson swatted my hand away and worked me to my peak swiftly. I barely had half a mind to grab the nearest cloth. It was his shirt. I didn't have the chance to find something else. I was already ejaculating streaks onto it. A few more thrusts and Watson released inside me. The sensation cause me to clamp down once more and Watson groaned.

The only sound was our heavy breathing. Watson's hand left my prick to wrap around me in a hug. His other left my hip to join it. I was sure there were going to be bruises and I smiled. He adorned my shoulders and neck with kisses.

"Rougher than I intended for our first time," he murmured.

"Can't find it in me to complain. I did ask for it."

"And who am I to deny you?"

Necessity dictated we pull apart. Watson needed to sit. His legs were wobbly and I needed to clean. I say that but, the sensation of his spend slowly working it's way down my thigh made my cock twitch admirably. His ruined shirt caught my eyes.

"I'm afraid you are down one shirt."

He sat there with his eyes closed.

"Just have to buy a new one to replace it," he waved me off and I took that as my opportunity to go to the toilet.

Ten minutes later I emerged clean and with a warm damp towel for Watson to clean up with. While he was at it, I gathered our clothes up and retrieved our night shirts and dressing gowns. When we were dressed, Watson poured us a nightcap and we sat on the settee. My free hand found his and he squeezed in response.

We nursed our glasses until Watson set his down and moved in closer, removing mine from my hand and setting it on the floor. He pressed gentle kisses to my face and only continued. Eventually I found myself pushed onto my back with Watson's heavy weight pressing me into the sofa. We kissed and kissed, with swollen lips, until Watson fell asleep. His face was buried in my neck from where he placed his last kiss of the night.

I never felt happier in my life and never more right to be laying underneath my dear Watson. My arms wrapped around him and held him tight until I too fell asleep at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment or kudos.
> 
> If you would like to find me elsewhere, I'm on tumblr at  
> koalasmashedoneucalyptus


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